there is a mountain of snow, up past the big glen...

Dan Deacon. The one innocently-named artist I would never think to share with any of my friends -- at least the ones I want to maintain a semblance of a relationship with. His music isn't necessarily abrasive; it's just that it's "batshit-crazy pop music" as I've seen it described. Sadly, that's probably the best and most apt description for his brand of songs. From earlier release Spiderman Of The Rings to 2009's Bromst, Dan Deacon has kept his class of glitchy, impossibly-catchy electronic music going, and has even managed to reach a world audience larger than the ones he entertains in his native Baltimore. His up-close-and-personal shows should come as no surprise -- any idea that Dan Deacon is the least bit sane is smashed as soon as you listen to any one of his tracks.

Looped samples of cymbals crashing, piano hits literally too fast for a human to play, chipmunk-y voice filters, fantastical lyrics, droning synthesizers, Casio-centric effects and a whole gamut of other noises, sounds and beats proliferate Deacon's work. This is definitely the kind of stuff you have to be in the right state of mind to listen to; if you're having a bad day, this isn't going to cheer you up. On the other hand, if your day is going inexplicably wrong, and you're largely confused as to how it all turned out, then you may find a bit of salvation in these songs. Nothing seems to make sense, whether it's a three-minute burst of energy, or an 11-minute rendition of nursery-rhyme-like fantasy like the tune featured below: (accompanying lyrics here, cause heaven knows I needed them to figure out what was being said)

Dan Deacon - "Wham City"

As mentioned though, those I hold dear can barely stand my electronic music choices as is, and they're a relatively pedestrian outcropping when compared to even Deacon's least-abrasive content. Over the Christmas holidays, I thought I'd throw on "Wet Wings," a slow-building and almost tribal-sounding track bubbling with emotive female voices layering themselves a capella over each other, but alas, I was shot down when my sister asked "what the hell is this? turn it off" and my mother commented that it sounded like women mourning at a funeral. 

Was it really that bad? No. Was it really that weird? Yes. And that's probably the biggest reason I can't share my Dan Deacon tunes: he's just too weird. Unfortunately, being blessed with the ability to make catchy, crazy pop music out of anything and everything is a bigger detriment than you'd think.

Sunday Night Spotlight | No. 3 | (on a Tuesday)

your guess is as good as mine

Little Dragon is a Swedish pop group. Among other things I've professed my love for on here, European sugar-pop is probably my biggest guilty pleasure of any. It makes no sense to me: I hate things that sound like the 80's. I hate pop music (in its current state). But I love Swedish people. Okay, I've only ever seen one Swede in my life that I know of, and that was Lykke Li. But I imagine they're all just as cool as her. I'm extrapolating here. Either way, Little Dragon are at least deserving of a Sunday Night Spotlight -- even if it is Tuesday.

They make slightly downtempo and dreamy pop, and lead singer Yukimi Nagano (yes, half-Japanese, half-Swedish), sounds eerily similar to Lykke Li, which is probably why I like Little Dragon so much in the first place. The quirky instrumentation is definitely there, mixing slippery drums with synthesizers, whistle noises, and even one song seemingly sampling that noise Mario made when he jumped up. Yukimi's flighty voice is the perfect compliment to all the above, delivering an airy accompaniment in cutely endearing English. There's so much summer in recent release Machine Dreams that it's a shame it just came to this side of the ocean in the fall.

Little Dragon - Never Never

"Never Never" is probably as downtempo as Little Dragon actually gets, but it still carries with it a bit of swagger, lilting along on the strength of the drum hits and Nagano's perfectly up-and-down, side-to-side vocals. It has a bit of a lounge-y feel to it in the verses, but never feels old or staid thanks to smile-inducing bridge and chorus, with its synthesizers working on overtime to produce the desired pick-me-up. When you listen to a song like this and call it "pop," you're ostensibly putting in it in the same dimension as the tunes you hear when you turn on the radio. But all you hear on the dial is a bastardization of the genre -- Little Dragon delivers pop music with a retro vibe, and in the way it's supposed to be heard.

Little Dragon - Swimming

"Swimming" on the flip-side is Little Dragon at its quirkiest. "ooooh-oooh"s abound, and the simple piano chords lay down the basis of a boy-girl story -- told on top of a tune you could easily imagine soundtracking a silent film, at the part where the couple-to-be is running around the park, playing a most-flirtatious round of hide-and-seek, peeking out from the trees just in time to see their crush and run off to their next hiding spot. (Wow, if that's not evocative enough - whether good or bad - I don't know what is. Try imaging Charlie Chaplin and seeing the whole thing in black-and-white and that might help a bit.)

Yukimi is good at some juxtaposition of sultry and kooky, her voice emoting both at different times, with the aide of that complimentary instrumentation. On top of "Swimming" and "Never Never," there's a few other tracks from Machine Dreams that border on dream-pop, thanks to their deft use of atmospherics and space. It just goes to prove that what you don't use is just as important as what you do -- silence is not nothing, it is simply the absence of sound, and sound and silence have to work in an effective tandem to make music truly great. Little Dragon know when to carry on a beat, when to cut it short, when to change it up. Sometimes they may over-indulge, like the "why'd they do that?" break on "Looking Glass," but largely, Machine Dreams is an enjoyable album, full of everything there is to love about 80's-tinged European pop music at the moment.

Buy Machine Dreams here: Amazon

Halifax Pop Explosion | Day 2

The Got To Get Got (courtesy of TheCoast's flickr photo-pool)

You'll notice there's no Day 1...because I didn't actually go. I have a festival pass, which I mistakenly bought in the summer, thinking I'd take in a ton of shows and that it'd totally be worth it. Wrong. When I looked at the pricing of the shows I actually wanted to see, as well as be able to physically attend, I would've been much better off just buying advance tickets to those performances. But whatever, it's my first HPX, and I'll learn for next year. As for why I didn't go to Day 1, featuring California's Crystal Antlers? Midterms. Yay.

But luckily, I only have about 2.5 days of school a week, and booked all my nights off from work so that I could catch as many shows as possible. Last night, that included stops at both craptastic Toothy Moose and the semi-legendary Paragon Theatre (more legitimately legendary as The Marquee Club, which is what it used to be known and run as). Of course, there were acts playing at other places that I also wanted to see, like the above-pictured Got To Get Got at The Seahorse, but even though the proximity of the venues was convenient, the set times certainly weren't. So my night went as follows:

Hannah Georgas | @ The Toothy Moose: I've heard some of Hannah's stuff both on CBC Radio 3 and on her own myspace page as well. She comes off as held-back and acoustic for the most part...both of which certainly weren't on display last night. She had what I soon found out was Said The Whale's backing band playing with her, so her one-woman act fleshed out into an ensemble featuring the pretty Hannah on guitar, as well as the cutest girl on keyboards, a drummer who looked all of 10 years old, and a pretty nondescript bassist (though they usually are, aren't they?). The overall effect was definitely an upgrade over many of the recordings I'd heard of Georgas'.

She has a great voice off the get-go, and an awesome stage presence, commanding attention and exuding confidence. Last night she was rocking an old-school wolf shirt too, so she either has a great sense of irony and humour...or just looks good in a wolf shirt. The set itself felt just long enough, and Hannah kept my interest throughout, changing up tempos and feelings, from the song she literally said was about "dating an asshole" to her huge closer "All I Need," which had the same kind of feeling for me as, dare I say it, Death Cab For Cutie's stunning rendition of "Transatlanticism" earlier this year. It started off slow and delicate, and seemed an odd choice for a set closer...then it kept building, and building, until it seemed the song was filling up the whole room -- and everyone's hearts. Check it out below, and then imagine it twice as loud and passionate towards the end:

Hannah Georgas - "All I Need"

Just a footnote though about this show and The Toothy Moose in general as a venue: it would be a fine punk venue, with the low stage and boxy design...if it wasn't a freaking country and western bar. The crowd seemed totally at odds with the usual frequenters, and if that wasn't enough, I was forced to recall the great crowds at Osheaga in Montreal this summer. The reason? The one really loaded girl and her semi-drunk girlfriends in front of me. It's fine to go nuts if there's a lot of people and they're all moving and shaking...but sadly, the 'Moose last night was far from that, being nearly-empty and all. You guys were just kinda annoying, and somehow already drunk during the first act.

Said The Whale | @ The Toothy Moose: now this Vancouver band started off the set with an a capella start to "False Creek Change," which sounds like as good of a sea shanty as you could whip up right here in Halifax. They played through a melodic if somewhat forgettable set, and I dunno if that's because I had higher expectations from excitable single "Camilo (The Magician)," or because I simply wasn't that familiar with their stuff. Sadly, I probably remembered them more for their funny quips in between songs, though they definitely did quite a number on "Camilo" as well as "This City's A Mess." The tempo of the show just happened to be all over the place for me though, between a few slow and folksy tunes, and my more-favoured rocking songs.

Said The Whale - "Camilo (The Magician)"

Kestrels | @ The Toothy Moose: I was hoping to settle in by this point and enjoy a rocking show, but unfortunately, things didn't get too much better. The crowd severely thinned out once Said The Whale finished their set, and there was maybe one third of the people left to see Kestrels perform. As their lead singer took the mic and said they had 20 minutes to play and that he'd shut up right after this, you could barely hear him above the chatter in the bar. I felt pretty bad for the guys actually.

The show itself was full of droning, feedback, pedal effects and a general warbling tilt to most of the songs. They actually even kept the droning going in between songs, so it almost seemed like Kestrels played one super-long piece of aggressive post-punk. I'm not sure if it was just the acoustics of the place, or the general malaise of the audience towards them and the corresponding effort by the band, but they weren't anything that impressive. Imagine Japandroids, but like two steps down if you can -- more garage-y, but also more jangly, so a bit of a juxtaposition.

Either in response to the audience, or his own pent-up rage during the set, the lead singer and guitarist randomly smashed his instrument to the ground at one point, only to pick it up unharmed...and heave it at the curtain behind the stage, which was only serving to cover a wall, and which consequently sent gyprock spraying when the head of the guitar stuck in and promptly fell out. Confusing series of events to say the least, especially since Kestrels' music doesn't seem particularly...angry. Below is a track they may have played, but which certainly didn't have the same zeal or earnestness to it last night.

Kestrels - "Sailed On"

Sprengjuhollin | @ The Paragon: don't laugh. That's what they're actually called, and it means something like "exploding palace" in Icelandic. Yes, they're the biggest pop sensation from Iceland, and they were playing last night when I wandered over to The Paragon after Kestrels finished their set. I wasn't greatly impressed by their msypace playlist when I was trying to pick what concert to attend last night, but as I got there, what they were lacking in perceived musical talent, they surely made up for in spunk -- and strangely enough, English. Everyone in the band who spoke last night had very good English, and just the slightest accent. Sure, three out of the five of them looked Icelandic...but you'd never be able to tell from speech alone.

The keyboardist seemed to be the band's spokesman, cracking jokes all night long and even offering free t-shirts to whomever was brave enough to stick their face into the sweaty bassist's stomach (again: don't laugh - four girls ended up doing it, and all got shirts for their effort). Just to backtrack though, I got to the venue in between songs, and in time for the keyboardist to point at a sign another band member was carrying, all to help us sound out their seemingly impossible name. "Spreng-you-hok-lean" was what I derived from the group session, but I'll be damned if anyone but the band said it right during any point of the night.

Among the funnier quips during their set was them implying that Iceland was "just to the East" of Canada, and they were "pretty much one of your provinces." This of course was part of their merch pitch, which also included a frank declaration that "as most of you know, our country, Iceland, went broke last year," which elicited a few laughs from the crowd. All that aside, their music fell somewhere between knee-slapping folk, energized dance-pop, melancholy ballads, alt-country and upbeat rock. Overall, the band was certainly faster-paced than (again) their myspace led me to believe. Some of the lyrics were also in Icelandic, as the band is only now in the process of translating their work into English for more widespread consumption.

Sprengjuhollin had at least two very good songs, and their slight lead singer, a boyish fellow with long sideburns and short-cut hair, delivered the lyrics in an almost-precious manner, seemingly unsure of the English footing of his words. They even got the same sweaty bassist to slow it down for a number, handing him a guitar and the mic for a decent tune. Overall, the band was fun, likable, and probably a group I wouldn't mind seeing again, especially once they flesh out their catalogue a little more.

Sprengjuhollin - "Worry 'Til Spring"

Mates Of State | @ The Paragon: at this point I should probably point out just how spread out and sparse the crowd was at The Paragon. I've been to a handful of shows there, and I have to admit every one of them was probably better-attended than last night's HPX exhibition. There were people from front to back, but they all seemed grouped up and most of them not even interested in the acts onstage. This of course led to an easy-to-reach spot in the second row, centre stage (basically the same place I had at the Toothy Moose), but I couldn't help feeling there could have been more passion flowing through the place as the top two acts were playing.

Either way, after what must've been the lengthiest set-up delay since Crystal Castles ended up in Ottawa instead of Montreal this summer, the married couple better known as Mates Of State came out to their drumset and pair of keyboards and synths. You could see the disinterest in their eyes and body language even as the stage was being arranged for them: husband Jason Hammel came out in a khaki trenchcoat and tucked-in scarf, looking like he was more ready for a shopping trip than playing drums. Wife Kori Gardner seemed no more into it either, even when Jason tried to create some between-song banter with her; she was reduced to saying what - thinking back seems a little meanspirited - "my mother always told me if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything at all."

Here, I have to admit that I read The Coast's review after I did up my own notes, and though I made a point even then of Mates Of State's business-like demeanor and general tiredness, I never really equated those to a displeasure the group must've had towards either the crowd or the city in general. Jason even whipped out his Blackberry as he was tuning up his drums, and I was fully afraid that he'd play the entirety of the show in his trenchcoat and scarf. Of course, that may have been influenced by some pretense I had about the group being from Britain, and possibly a ponderance on my part that the duo may have thought themselves "bigger" than a show at the HPX. That was washed away when I could neither hear an accent from the two, nor any mention of a long trip over here. In reality, they're just a couple from Kansas, possibly weary of a long tour and under-attended venue.

The music though was far from lacklustre. I went in thinking I was gonna get lambasted with over-the-top pop melodies and boy-girl harmonies from two lovebugs crafting old-timey tunes. I was quite wrong. Jason plays a mean drum, pinpoint and severely catchy, and also mixed in much higher than you'd hear a drumset this side of Death From Above 1979. That may be a stretch to compare him to such a hard-driving dance-punk group, but the dude can play, and his drumming went a long way to helping impress Mates Of State's live show upon me. Kori's crafty synth work (creating a palpable atmosphere throughout every song) and equally deft keyboard playing even made up for the lack of guitar. I even found it a fun little game to compare them to the only other husband-wife duo I've seen live: Handsome Furs, at this year's Virgin Festival. Whereas the Furs put wife on drum machine/synth and husband on a wall of distorted guitar, Mates took a different approach with the real drums and fake pianos/synth. Vastly different styles of course, but two neat approaches to coping with not having a full band.

Many of the songs were thumping, superbly catchy, upbeat (notice I love that word/style?), and sometimes downright ecstatic. The onstage presence of the duo was business-like as mentioned, to the point where each one basically knew what to do, talked little in between songs, and just played out the show. The audience probably wasn't helping either, as after four acts and two venues I was literally nodding off at some points, and I wasn't the only one from the number of yawns I saw going around The Paragon. If Mates Of State were tired, we were certainly doing no better. Refreshingly, there was only one really drunk guy I saw, as the crowds tend to be a bit better behaved at The Paragon than at other venues.

The rest of the place could've used a drink though thinking back, as I remember that every time a song ended, you could only hear what seemed like the front quarter of the place clapping. Sing-a-longs were few and far between, as I was standing by ostensibly the only four or five people who knew any of the Mates' material. Even our clapping for the encore resembled a forced gesture, with few whoops if any, and moreso a feeling that we owed it to the band as the headliners to ask for an encore, and they owed it in return to give us one.

I'm basically going out on a limb and saying last night's show was like staying in a relationship that's not working for either person, but you keep riding it out because you know that soon enough, it's gonna be over. I was even so hungry and tired that I felt a little microcosm of that myself: once the show was over, I could swing by McDonald's and then pass out on my bed. Is that the feeling you want during a show, let alone the headliners? I'd probably say no.

Some musical notes though before I finish - because there actually was some music being played while all of this was going on. "My Only Offer" was definitely their showstopper, as they performed a rousing rendition. The rest of the tunes definitely had me questioning the point of even putting songs on a band's myspace page, when they sound so little like that live. I mean, they kinda blew my socks off at some points last night, taking me into the rhythm and melody of the tracks with barely a drum kick and a synth stab. For all their laissez-faire attitude up there, they sure can still bang out the songs when need be.

Mates Of State - "My Only Offer"

My overall lesson from last night? Don't trust myspace; bands some bands are better live than you'd think...while others...not so much.

get a drink, have a good time now, welcome to paradise

I'm just as lost as you

The only reason I even discovered this song was because of Pitchfork's list of the Top 50 Videos of the last decade, where you'll conveniently find "Since I Left You" as the 4th greatest video on that list. I'd greatly recommend watching the video first, because every time after that, whenever you hear this song, you'll be reminded of what goes on in it (I'm not gonna describe it...just go watch it). Usually, a music video would ruin my mental image of a song, and I'm not exactly the biggest fan of music videos in the first place. So "Since I Left You" is definitely an exception.

The song itself is - like the entirety of The Avalanches' work - a combination of dozens of samples, both musical and vocal. Whereas Girl Talk pieces them together while quite obviously keeping the originals intact (mashing if you will), The Avalanches masterfully craft entire new songs using just snippets of ones they'd spent many an hour digging through crates for to find. Eventually, I'm going to get around to listening to the full album of the same name as the single, but I'm a little hesitant right now, given that "Frontier Psychiatry," their only other song I've heard, is basically a mindfuck of juxtaposed vocal samples straight out of 1940's and 50's television and radio ads and shows.

"Since I Left You" is then a weird juxtaposition in itself. It's a song where I gladly let the music video "ruin" my impression of it, while I won't chance listening to the rest of the (highly-regarded) album it's featured on, for fear it might sully what's left of my impression of The Avalanches. It's certainly an amazing song in its own right, dream pop mixing tinkling bells, flute, female vocals, an unashamedly disco groove, bouncy keyboards, and even an intro consisting of guitar and shouting you'd expect to hear from an afternoon at a South American weekend market. I just don't know if the rest of the album will be filled with similarly stunning material, or something that just degrades my already fragile impression of the group - this song not withstanding of course.

this was one of the more normal photos of Camera Obscura

When I say "endearing Scottish pop music" what do you think of? I wouldn't blame you if you just drew a complete blank, but Camera Obscura, a group from Glasgow, probably has the market cornered. My Maudlin Career is their fourth proper-length album, and though it's been out for a bit and I've heard bits and pieces of it, I've really fallen in love with "French Navy."

Camera Obscura - French Navy

It receives a bit of airplay on CBC Radio 2, but it's far from anything you'd hear on any mainstream radio station. Sadly, there's not a very good reason for that, other than the fact there's no decent radio stations anywhere east of Montreal here in Canada. This is the kind of pop music that would thrive on a channel like that, full of shiny and lush instrumentation, picturesque lyrics, and the lead singer's flighty and extremely distinct voice.

The song screams "sunny day" to me, and when the chorus picks up, you can't help but imagine yourself standing in a grassy field, the girl of your dreams running into your arms. Why in the world much of modern radio insists on playing air-headed pop and empty, same-riffing rock when there's such evocative music out there is really beyond me. But thank God for the internet: where "endearing Scottish pop music" happens.

Quick Hit: Matt & Kim

Jumpy, piano-driven, happy pop music. Plain and simple, with a catchy chorus and thoughtful lyrics. I've always had a fondness for this song, but had forgotten about it til I checked out a link the other day where Bacardi was using this song in one of its ads. That little affectation Matt puts on his voice makes their music that much more interesting.

Daylight - Matt & Kim

Bonus Gimmicky/Funny/This-Actually-Happened Video:

Lesson Learned - Matt & Kim

Et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort

the ever-so-cute Coeur De Pirate

I've been meaning to blog this post for quite a while, because it's a nice little study in remixing. I remember I was browsing hypem.com like I usually do, all the way back in February, when I stumbled on "Comme Des Enfants (Le Matos Andy Carmichael Mix)" by an artist named Coeur De Pirate. It had a long song name, and a strange French-sounding artist, so I quickly filed it under "over-remixed Euro trash." I also remember though that it had an inordinately high number of "loved"s for the popular list, so I figured I'd give it a spin.

What followed was a slow, dark and brooding rendition of heartbreak, set to a bopping synth and dancefloor ready thump. I understand my fair share of French, but I really didn't pay attention to the lyrics, as the soundscape was more than enough to hold my attention for the numerous listens I gave the song over the weeks.

Then - and this is where the specifics get cloudy - one of my best friends and I began to talk about the song or the artist; the exact nature escapes me. But we were driving along one day, and I was playing the remix, and she somewhat jokingly/somewhat seriously said "what the fuck is this shit?" (she's endearingly vulgar). I explained it was Coeur De Pirate, and she replied with "oh hell no it isn't, this is some techno, crazy, stupid shit," then grabbed her phone and played the original version of "Comme Des Enfants." It was light-hearted, bubbly, piano-driven and a pop song in every sense of the phrase, a drastic contrast to the remix I was so enamoured by.

Once I saw this side of Coeur De Pirate, I was instantly struck. As it happens, I work at an office where we're only allowed on cbc.ca in terms of outside internet access, relegating me to listening to podcasts from CBC Radio 3, an all-indie, all-Canadian institution I've somehow been blind to for the last 4 years (ignore the fact I picked up a cool poster they came up with when the site first launched, that then somehow managed to stay up in my room for years without me actually visiting the site). Anyways, before I get off track, it turns out they play Coeur De Pirate, and that she's a bonafide Canadian songstress. Go figure.

Back to the music itself though, I mentioned this was a nice little study of the remix. A lot of remixes just add some drums, some synth, re-arrange some words, and voila, a cheap retake on something that probably wasn't even that great to begin with. I'm not gonna try to guess why this remix made it so big based on the singer herself and any perceived popularity, but musically, it's genius in the way it takes the original and reconstructs it, while retaining virtually only the lyrics themselves.

There's maybe an ode to the piano of the original in the build-up of the remix, but from there on out, it's one extended, dark tilt on an otherwise joyous-sounding song. I say sounding because translated, this song approximates to a love-triangle (somehow explained well-enough by my aforementioned non-French-speaking, Coeur-De-Pirate-loving friend), and CDP being stuck in the middle of it all.

"But he loves me still, and my love for you grows a little bit stronger" is roughly what the chorus amounts to. The jumpy and happy nature of the original does nothing to capture that spirit, but strangely the remix does it perfectly. In my limited experience, I have to say that's one of the few instances in which a remix (not a cover mind you) does a better job of conveying the message of a song than the actual original.

Now for all my talking, it's still up to you to listen and decide for yourselves. You can have it one of two ways: take my path, and hear the remix first, then be surprised by the original; or listen to the original and be envelloped by the immenseness of the remix afterwards.

You can only choose one. Someone tell that to Coeur De Pirate though.

Original: Comme Des Enfants - Coeur De Pirate

Remix: Comme Des Enfants (Le Matos Andy Carmichael Remix) - Coeur De Pirate